


In Vino Veritas

by Sabeley



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Breaking Up & Making Up, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mild Description of Panic Attack, Mutual Pining, Woke Up Married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-02 12:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11509023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sabeley/pseuds/Sabeley
Summary: After seven years apart, Isak wakes up to find Even in his bed and a wedding ring on his finger.





	In Vino Veritas

**Author's Note:**

> I don't actually know if there are 24-hour wedding chapels anywhere besides Vegas but let's pretend, shall we?
> 
> Korean translation now available [here](https://jydoodles.postype.com/) by Jydoodles

When Isak awoke to a familiar pair of sky-blue eyes, he got lost in time and space, and for a moment he was happy. His happiness didn’t last long, however, because while the eyes were intimately familiar, he quickly remembered that he hadn’t seen them in almost seven years. 

“Don’t freak out,” Even said immediately, holding up a placating hand like that might actually keep him quiet. They were facing each other on their respective pillows with only a whisper between them, and although Isak had not paused to take stock of himself, he could see very clearly that Even, at least, was not wearing clothes. 

Isak sprang back so far that he almost fell off of the ginormous king-sized bed they were sharing, but his grip on the sheet stopped him from flying off the edge. “What the hell?” he cried, inching as far away from Even as the bed would allow. And, yeah, he was naked too. 

No sooner had he realized that than his headache kicked in so strong that he almost doubled over in pain. Shit. How much had he had to drink? Stupid question—the answer was obviously too much. How else would he have ended up naked in bed with his ex-boyfriend without any recollection of how he’d gotten there? 

Even sat up much slower, a hand already braced against his forehead to stave off the pain. As he sat, the thin sheet they were sharing fell to his waist and Isak couldn’t help but stare at the body that had once been as intimately familiar to him as his own. Even’s skin was darker now (probably tanned from the California sun), his shoulders were broader, his muscles more defined. There were years of memories on that body that Isak hadn’t been around to see. He hated it. 

“I don’t know,” Even huffed. “But if you would stop _yelling_ —” 

“Stop yelling?!” Isak cried incredulously, but despite his words he had to admit that Even had a point because his shrill cry sent another sharp stab of pain through his already-aching head. He continued on a bit quieter (for his own benefit, not for Even’s). “What the fuck? What’s happening? Where are we?” 

Even ignored all of the important questions and skipped straight to the last one. “We’re in my hotel room.” Isak glanced around the suite to give himself something to look at besides the dark purple bruises on Even’s neck. It was large—much larger than the cheap, one-bedroom apartment they’d shared for nearly two years—and yet it felt smaller with the weight of their shared history pressing down around them. It was lavishly decorated with plush carpets and sheets so soft they felt like silk. It seemed like quite an investment when Even was just in town for two nights to attend an old friend’s wedding. Especially when Isak knew for a fact that Sana and Yousef had offered him their guest room for free. 

Isak closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. _This isn’t happening_ , he repeated in his head over and over. _It’s just a dream. Only a dream_. But he knew it wasn’t. Even without Even sitting in front of him looking thoroughly fucked, there was a bone-deep ache in his muscles that told a pretty compelling story as to what they had done last night. The question was why? 

“What the hell, Even?” Isak asked, his voice breaking over his name. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d said Even’s name aloud. He’d heard it, of course—from Jonas and Magnus and Mahdi, all trying to keep him informed even though he pretended not to care—but _saying_ it hurt too much. He felt tears building in his eyes and he wished he could say they were tears of anger and frustration, but he knew that would be a lie. He couldn’t fucking remember what happened to get him here and that _scared_ him. 

“Isak,” Even said, snapping him back to attention. He lifted his hand, like he might try to reach out and offer comfort, but upon realizing what he was doing, he sighed and dropped it. “Can you stop freaking out for two minutes? Please? I don’t know what the fuck’s going on either. The last thing I remember was asking if I could buy you a drink.” 

The last thing Isak remembered was watching Even congratulate Magnus and his new bride on their wedding and then immediately taking about five shots to forget that he’d ever seen him in the first place. “And I said yes?!” 

Even huffed out a laugh and then shrugged. “I mean…” he said, gesturing between them. “I don’t actually remember that part, but all signs point to yes.” Isak looked up into his blue eyes and there was a sparkle there that he hadn’t seen in a very long time. He was happy. Even was happy. 

It was only as Isak’s muscles started to relax that he realized they’d been tense at all. “I don’t remember anything either,” he admitted and Even chuckled once more. 

“Yeah, I gathered that.” He dropped his head into his hands and tried to rub some of the tension out of his forehead. “Look, let’s just take some aspirin, order room service, and then we can talk. Or not talk,” he added. “I’m not picky.” He continued rambling about breakfast and his headache, but Isak was no longer listening because there, on Even’s ring finger, was what was unmistakably a wedding band. 

“Fuck,” Isak said, hopping out of bed so fast he almost collapsed to the floor when the world started spinning around him. He braced himself against the bed, stark naked, for several long seconds before his vision righted itself and he was able to move again. He found a pair of boxers a few feet from the bed and threw them on, not even caring that they weren’t his. He had to get out of there. 

“Where are you going?” Even asked and he seemed utterly baffled, like he had fully expected Isak to stay for brunch. 

Isak’s hands were shaking as he dug through a pile of clothes on Even’s floor. Where the fuck were his goddamn pants? His heart rate sped up with every second that passed and by the time he realized his breath was coming in shallow pants, it was already too late. 

He had already resigned himself to having a panic attack on the floor of Even’s hotel room when suddenly Even was there, cupping Isak’s face in his hands. His touch was a welcome distraction to the fear mounting around him, and looking into Even’s eyes, it was easy to transport himself to a happier time—a time when those eyes could have calmed him without even trying. Even did try this time, though. He slowed his own breathing, taking large, steady gulps of air, as if showing Isak how it was done. 

“Breathe with me, Isak. In, 2, 3, 4…out, 2, 3, 4…in…out.” Isak was so surprised by Even talking him through breathing exercises that his body obeyed without question. It took barely any time at all before his heart rate steadied. As soon as Even was satisfied that he was okay, he released Isak and stepped out of his personal space. It was only then that Isak realized Even was still very, very naked. 

He blinked against the sight several times, wondering if he had passed out and ended up in a dream after all. But nope, that was still Even’s penis. While Even himself had certainly been changed by the years, Isak took some comfort in the fact that his dick was still very much the same. Isak mouth started watering at the sight of it—which was _ridiculous—_ and he had the sudden overwhelming urge to stick it in his mouth and see if it tasted the same too. 

“Since when do you get panic attacks?” Even asked quietly, drawing Isak’s attention back up to his face. Isak blushed a dark crimson at having been caught staring. 

“Uh,” Isak mused, shaking his head to try to clear his thoughts. “Oh, um, I don’t know.” That was, of course, a lie. He’d gotten the first one sitting in the parking lot the day he dropped Even off at the airport. He’d thought he was finally getting over them—but then again, he thought he was finally getting over Even too. 

Even licked his lips in that way he did when he was debating saying something he knew Isak wouldn’t like, but he seemed to think better of it because he heaved a deep sigh and turned his back on him to grab what looked like the softest bathrobe in existence from a hook on the bathroom door. Which was a great idea in theory, but when he turned, Isak got his first unobstructed view of Even’s ass, complete with a bite-shaped bruise on his right cheek, and his blush darkened. What the fuck had they done last night? Before he could dwell on it too much, Even pulled the robe on and covered the bruise back up. Isak sincerely hoped that he never realized it was there. 

“What got into you?” Even asked, turning back around to face Isak. It took Isak a pathetically long time to remember what exactly the problem was, but when he did, he stiffened. God, was he still drunk? How had he forgotten? Was Even’s dick really that distracting? He’d seen other dicks live and in-person since Even’s. It shouldn’t be a whole thing. It then occurred to him that although Even might not be able to see the bruise Isak had hoped would stay hidden, his fucking _spouse_ sure would. God, they were in so much trouble. 

“What got into me?” Isak hissed. “You’re fucking married!” 

Even scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, like he had never heard something so ridiculous in his whole life. “Married? What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Your ring,” Isak said, pointing. “Don’t even try to lie your way out of this one, Even. That’s a fucking wedding band.” Even lifted his left hand, still with the same confused expression, but when he caught sight of the ring, all color drained from his face—it was actually startling how fast it happened—and he crossed the space between them to pull Isak’s left hand into his. Isak let out an affronted gasp but quickly fell silent when he spotted an identical wedding band on his own finger. “What the fuck?” 

Even shook his head in disbelief, but once again ignored Isak’s question and took off across the room, rifling through his belongings in first the bathroom and then the bedside table. He didn’t seem to find what he was looking for because he kept searching, scattering clothes around the room and running his fingers through his hair like he had reached the end of his patience. 

“Even?” Isak prompted, his voice rising in panic. Logically, he knew Even was just as clueless as he was, but he needed someone to tell him what the hell was going on. Who the fuck had let him drink that much vodka? 

Probably fucking Jonas—damn him. 

“Have you seen my suit jacket?” Even asked, pushing past Isak as he stepped into the living area of the suite. Isak threw his arms up in exasperation, wondering what that had to do with anything, but Even just kept searching. 

“Did you check the fucking closet?” Isak asked, although he already knew that he hadn’t. He sighed heavily and opened the closet door himself, but there was nothing inside. He wasn’t surprised. Even was the type of person that would much rather live out of a suitcase than expend the effort to unpack anything. 

He turned back to the main room just in time to watch Even open the door and step out into the hallway. “Where the fuck are you going?!” He ran across the room and caught the door before it shut behind him. Even was already waiting on the other side, his arms laden with two suit jackets and a dress shirt. “Fuck. Were those in the fucking _hallway_?” 

Even stepped around him, back into the room, and dumped everything onto the floor except the jacket he had apparently been looking for. Without hesitation, he reached into the breast pocket and pulled out first an empty ring box and then a tightly folded piece of paper that blossomed like a flower when it was freed from its confines. The two of them stared at it like it was a bomb waiting to go off. 

And go off it did because as Even unfolded it completely, Isak could clearly make out the words “Certificate of Marriage” sitting atop both his and Even’s untidy signatures. The two of them stood there in stunned silence for almost a full minute. 

“That’s not _real_ , right?” Isak asked, his panic now bordering over into hysteria. 

“I don’t know,” Even shrugged, his eyes still glued to the piece of paper. He seemed eerily calm, like this was an inconvenience more than anything, and it only made Isak angrier. 

“Where the fuck would we have gotten married?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“We were drunk off our asses. Who would have married us?” 

“Isak,” Even snapped, looking up at him for the first time. “I. Do. Not. Know. Okay? I don’t know.” 

Even had always been the one place Isak could find comfort and even though the panic was threatening to spill over into tears, he took some solace in the fact that Even was there with him, staring down at him with the same blue eyes that had saved him a million times before. 

“Do you think this is real?” Isak asked, forcing himself to remain calm. Even, seeming to sense that he was at least _trying_ , looked back down at the paper in his hand. Isak followed his gaze and despite the wrinkles, he had to admit that it looked pretty legit. It was notarized and everything, accompanied by witness signatures that Isak didn’t recognize. 

“I think it’s real,” Even admitted after perusing it. He looked up at Isak, his eyes full of apology—like this was somehow _his_ fault. “I mean, if it was just this…But with the rings too?” 

Isak looked down at the silver band around his finger and felt his stomach lurch at the sight. It fit perfectly, like it was meant to be there, and it was _so_ ironic because this was all he’d wanted for _years_. It was all he wanted _still_ , when he was drunk enough to admit it to himself. Looking down at the ring, it occurred to him that Even probably knew that now too—knew just how much Isak still wanted him. He couldn’t pretend that there weren’t feelings there anymore. He couldn’t hide behind his pain and ignore texts and phone calls until they just stopped coming. _In vino veritas_ and all of that. 

Fuck. His heart was back to pounding in his chest and the adrenaline coursing through his body set off his fight or flight response. He had never been much of a fighter. 

He backed away from Even slowly, like the boy might actually try to stop him, but Even didn’t bother. He just stared down at Isak, his forehead knitted in concern. He opened his mouth to speak, but Isak just shook his head, silently begging him to stay quiet. Even did. After all this time, he still knew Isak better than anyone. And Isak hated that. 

He took another step backwards and then another, twisting the silver ring off his finger as he did so. It felt like a cage, trapping him, and he needed it _gone_. When he finally got it off, he set it neatly on the nearest horizontal surface, trusting Even to destroy it as he saw fit, and then immediately started walking towards the door. His mind was whirring too fast for him to grab onto a single thought and he felt dizzy again. This wasn’t fucking happening. 

He was almost at the door when Even finally spoke. “Isak,” he said. Isak didn’t turn because he couldn’t stand to face him, but he stopped with his hand hovering over the doorknob. He expected something poignant—maybe a declaration of love or a reassurance that they were going to figure this out—but what he got instead was, “You’re not wearing pants.” 

Sure enough, when Isak looked down, he realized he was still only wearing the boxer shorts that he had picked up off of the floor earlier. He couldn’t help it—he started laughing, thinking back to the last time he’d been in a hotel room with Even and how he could have said the very same thing to him then. 

Them and hotels, man, seriously. 

He stepped away from the door, acting deliberately calm, and slowly started picking his way through the piles of clothing around the room. Even didn’t bother to help, just stood out of the way, waiting for him to leave. So Isak dressed in awkward silence, feeling more naked with every piece of clothing he pulled on, and then he made his way back to the doorway and paused in front of it, expecting Even to say something—anything—else. 

When several long seconds passed without a word, Isak opened the door and turned back to Even who was still cowering in a corner, his face pale and his eyes wide. “I guess I’ll…see you?” If Even heard him, he didn’t acknowledge his words. Instead, he continued to stare at Isak like he couldn’t quite understand what he was seeing. Like he was dreaming. 

Yeah, Isak wished. 

He stepped through the door and slammed it shut behind him, leaving Even alone on the other side. 

* 

Isak hadn’t been looking for it, but he found it anyway. That could be said of Even when they first started dating and also of the letter that broke them up. The irony of it was that he was trying to do a nice thing. Even was always complaining about how Isak never wanted to make the trek down to the mailroom, but when he finally did, everything fell apart. 

The envelope was so large that it had to be folded in two to fit in the small mailbox. He pulled it out carefully, somehow sensing the enormity of what it contained without actually knowing what it was, and then stared in shock at the “USC School of Cinematic Arts” logo in the top left hand corner, postmarked from California. 

His stomach twisted into knots and the world went deathly quiet as Isak tried to process what the hell he was looking at. It was several minutes later before he found the will to move from the dingy mailroom, and he spent the short walk up the stairs to his apartment trying to rationalize what he was looking at. Maybe Even had just sent away for a brochure or something. People asked for brochures, right? That was a thing? But Isak couldn’t even convince himself. He knew, without a doubt, what he held in his hand: an acceptance letter for a school half a world away—a school Even hadn’t even told him he was applying to. 

Different scenarios ran through Isak’s head quickly. Even in California without him. Even in California _with_ him. Even in Norway, giving up on his dream because Isak didn’t want to leave. And he really, really didn’t. He liked his home, he liked where he lived, and the thought of moving terrified him. 

The walk to his apartment had never seemed so short. He took a deep breath to steel himself for what was coming and then opened to door. Immediately, the sounds of FIFA washed over him and the volume was turned up so loud that Isak doubted Even had heard him come in at all. He kicked off his shoes, dropped his backpack to the floor, and set the miscellaneous mail on the kitchen table before walking into the main room with the USC envelope clutched tightly to his chest. 

Even was sitting on their bed amidst tangled sheets, pressing buttons rapidly on the game controller. On any other day, Isak would have let him finish the play he was on before speaking, but he felt like he was about to burst as it was. “Some mail came for you,” he said. 

Even’s eyes stayed glued to the TV as he responded. “Yeah? What is it?” 

“I’m not sure,” Isak admitted, his voice breaking as he spoke. He closed his eyes, cursing himself for such a blatant display of emotion, but he could feel things falling apart around him and he was petrified. Even, sensing his distress, paused the game. 

“Isak, what’s wrong?” He asked, rushing to his side. He stopped only a foot away, finally catching sight of the envelope in Isak’s hand. Isak held it out towards him like a peace offering. 

“It’s the big envelope,” he said as Even took it from his trembling hands. “You know what that means.” Even looked down at the return address, although Isak had no doubt that he already knew who it was from. If he was excited by the prospect of a future in America, his face didn’t show it. 

“Isak, I’m not going,” Even assured him, like it was just that easy. He took a step forward, but Isak knew he would lose his train of thought with Even standing so close, so he took a step back. 

“Then why the hell did you apply?” 

Even paused, finally sensing the extent of Isak’s distress. “Are you mad?” he asked. “Why are you mad? Because I didn’t tell you? Isak, I didn’t tell you because I never had any intention of going. It’s a really competitive school. I just wanted to see if I was good enough to get in. I know you don’t want to leave Norway and I would never leave you.” When he stepped forward that time, Isak let him pull him into a tight hug and refused to let go until Even was chuckling into his hair. “Baby, stop freaking out. I’m not going anywhere without you.” And Isak knew in his heart that that was true. 

Which was why he started pushing him away. 

He stayed perpetually moody and quiet and would turn away from Even’s kisses when he offered them. At first, Even brushed it off as just a tiff, but soon it had lasted too long for him to ignore. 

“What the fuck is your deal, Isak? I told you I’m not going!” 

“That’s my fucking deal!” Isak cried, letting his anger pour out of him. “What the hell kind of boyfriend am I if I let you give up on your dream because of me? What kind of relationship is this?” 

“Isak, I—” He held his hand out and Isak knew he was trying to reach for him, but he stepped out of the way. Even’s face hardened. It was rare that Isak saw him mad, but he was mad now. _Isak_ had done that. 

“We both know you haven’t told them no yet,” Isak snapped. “So just tell them yes. I’m taking myself out of the picture, Even. If you stay here, I’m breaking up with you.” And then, because he couldn’t stand to see the broken look on Even’s face, he stormed out of the apartment, not even bothering to put on shoes. 

He wandered around town—his eyes wet, his feet hurting, and his heart shattered into pieces—for several long hours until the sun was buried well-below the horizon, then he returned to his apartment. He expected Even to be awake, waiting for him, but the lights were off when he opened the door and the apartment was quiet. For one harrowing second, Isak thought Even had already left—that he wouldn’t get the chance to explain or apologize—but then a distinct snuffle sounded from the bed and Isak’s heart got stuck in his throat. 

He rushed to Even’s side immediately, crawling into bed next to him, and they held each other close and cried loud, wracking sobs that would haunt Isak for years to come. Because they knew. They both knew. 

“I just want you to be happy,” Isak cried when he finally found the breath to form words. 

“I could be happy here,” Even replied and Isak knew it was true, but it wasn’t enough. 

“Yeah, but you could be _more_.” 

They made love that night, faces stained with tears, and as Even pushed into him over and over, Isak felt something break inside of him. It felt like Even was cracking open his chest and stealing Isak’s heart for himself, but Isak couldn’t begrudge him that because it was his. His heart had belonged to Even for years and it would belong to him still until the day he died. He felt so vulnerable, so raw, and when Even finally brought him to the edge and pushed him over, he couldn’t imagine giving that to another person ever again. In his mind, he was Even’s. Only Even’s. From now until eternity. 

That shouldn’t have been the end of them—maybe it wouldn’t have been if they were different people—but Isak knew that if Even went to California, he wouldn’t be coming back. He didn’t want to give him a reason to have to. 

* 

Isak’s memories of their wedding night came back in pieces, like a puzzle that he had to fit back together. Even had been wrong before—Isak hadn’t actually said yes to the drink Even offered him. At least not the first one, but Even was nothing if not persistent and the glass of whiskey he eventually ordered him cost more than the suit Isak was wearing. He knew that was the kind of shit you were supposed to savor, but he downed it in one gulp just to be contrary. Even smiled and watched him with the same loving look in his eyes that he always had. For a second it felt like nothing had changed. So Isak ordered another shot. 

He still wasn’t quite sure how they got from Point A to Point B, but the next thing he knew, he was crowded into the corner of some ritzy bathroom stall at the reception hall Magnus had rented, and Even was on his knees in front of him, giving him the single best blowjob of his entire life. Isak collapsed to the floor when he came, weak from a strange mix of his orgasm and the alcohol, and watched in shocked fascination as Even pulled out his own cock and jerked off into his hand. It was only as Even was tucking himself back into his pants, that Isak realized just how much he wanted to _touch_. 

“You okay?” Even asked, standing on shaking knees. 

It was the part that came next that Isak would swear until his dying day that he couldn’t remember, despite the fact that he couldn’t stop playing it over again in his head, blushing at himself in secondhand embarrassment. “No,” he said, like the petulant child that he apparently was. “It’s not fair. It should be us getting married, not _Magnus_.” The last thing he remembered clearly was the radiant smile on Even’s face. 

The rest of the night was a blur of more alcohol (champagne, this time) and Even, but the later it got, the less clear Isak’s memories were. He didn’t remember any sort of marriage proposal, but he did remember wandering the streets with Even, the bright lights from the nearby buildings casting them in a sort of ethereal glow. He didn’t remember wandering into a 24-hour wedding chapel, but he did remember standing at the front of a stark white room decorated with what looked like thousands of red roses, and glancing up at Even to see his eyes full of tears. He remembered Even pulling out two silver wedding bands from his coat pocket. He remembered saying “I do.” 

It took him less than a day to remember all of those things, but he still didn’t call Even. There was a part of him that worried time had made strangers of them, even though he knew that was impossible. He also wasn’t ready to face the rejection that he inevitably knew was coming. Even if Even wanted him back, that didn’t mean he wanted to be _married_. And even if he _did_ want to be married, that didn’t mean he was here to stay. Their problems were still problems, but Isak would be lying if he said the part of him that didn’t want to move to America was growing smaller and smaller the longer he spent without Even in his life. 

Isak wasted two whole days lying in bed, ignoring the phantom feel of a wedding band around his finger. He was a firm believer that if you ignored a problem for long enough, it would go away, so he waited until he was confident Even would be back in California, and then he stepped back into the routine of his everyday life. 

The photos were delivered on his and Even’s one-week anniversary. He thought it was a mistake at first when the white cardboard box covered in red hearts showed up on his doorstep, but it _was_ addressed to him. Well, him and Even. He opened the box with a weary sigh and pulled out a cream-colored photo album with a smiling picture of the two of them inlayed into the cover. They were wearing the same suits that they had been wearing the night of Magnus’s wedding and despite the volume of alcohol Isak knew that they had both consumed, they didn’t look sloppy or drunk at all. They looked like they were in love. They were staring at each other in the picture with so much adoration that Isak would have sworn it was taken years ago. 

Isak’s hand was shaking as he opened the album and he slowly began flipping through the pictures of two boys in love. He didn’t even recognize those boys. Not anymore. They were smiling and laughing and clinging onto each other like they were the only two people that mattered in the entire world. It was how Isak liked to imagine them when he was lying awake at night and the loneliness began to creep into his bones. He’d almost convinced himself over the years that those feelings of love and acceptance were a figment of his imagination. Apparently he was wrong. 

He was crying by the time he made it to the end of the album and he had to wipe the tears from his eyes before he was able to dig through the rest of the contents of the cardboard box. There wasn’t much, just a digital copy of the album he was holding and a receipt. 

Isak was about to throw the receipt away when his curiosity got the better of him. His original intention had been to check the price of the photo album because he knew he wasn’t the one that paid for it, but when he began scanning through the invoice, something else distracted him. The credit card used was listed, but so was the billing address. It wasn’t an address Isak recognized, but it _was_ in Norway. He let the piece of paper flutter to the floor and then stood there in silence for almost a full minute, waiting for that to sink in, but it never really did. He knew it was stupid to assume anything about Even, but the fact that he hadn’t tried to contact Isak before he left for California had been nagging at him all week. Even didn’t like unfinished business and he definitely didn’t like leaving Isak. But if he hadn’t actually left… 

Heart racing, Isak pulled his phone out of his pocket and collapsed into one of his kitchen chairs. Jonas picked up on the second ring. 

“Yo, dude, what’s up?” 

Usually Isak would try to veil his curiosity, but he was past the point of being chill. He was fucking married, goddamn it. “Did Even move back home?” The silence on the other end of the line stretched out for so long that Isak didn’t even need Jonas to reply for him to know the answer. If he wasn’t so desperate for more information, he would have hung up. “Jonas?!” 

“He didn’t want us to tell you,” Jonas finally said with a sigh. “I told him I couldn’t keep a secret from you and he said to give him a week. Did he not tell you?” 

“When?” Isak said, choosing to ignore the question. “When did he tell you that?” 

“At the wedding. Or the reception, I guess. I asked when he was heading back to California and he said he wasn’t. He got a job here or something—I don’t know. I was pretty drunk by that point.” _Yeah, you and me both_. “Right after that I saw the two of you talking at the bar, so I thought maybe he had mentioned it. Did he not?” 

“No, Jonas,” Isak snapped. “No he fucking didn’t.” 

There was another long pause that made Isak want to pull his hair out. He was ready to scream, to cry, when Jonas finally spoke again. “But this is a good thing, right? You’re still in love with him, Issy—we both know it. And you should have seen the way he was looking at you at the wedding. It was like no time had passed at all. Even Eva was talking about it. He’s so in love with you and you two deserve a chance.” 

“It’s not that easy,” Isak tried, but Jonas wasn’t having it. 

“It never is. Look, you need to talk to him about this. He re-activated his old number if you want to call him. Or I can give you his new address. He’s living in those old apartments out on—” 

“I know where he’s living,” Isak interrupted, looking down at the receipt on the floor. Jonas didn’t ask him how he knew, which was good because Isak didn’t have a lie readily prepared. “I think I’m going to go see him.” He hadn’t realized he was thinking it until the words came out, but Jonas immediately brightened on the other line. 

“Yeah? Isak, you should. He would love to see you.” 

Isak sighed wearily, thinking about how that might have been true at one point, but they were an old married couple now and somehow, he thought that might complicate things a bit. “Maybe.” He could tell there was more that Jonas wanted to say, but he was too keyed up to listen. He thanked Jonas for this time, said a quick goodbye, and then hung up the phone, leaving himself to wallow alone in the mess that he had made. 

* 

It was three days later before Isak was able to muster the courage to make the trek across town to Even’s new place. Once he got there, it took another fifteen minutes of pacing out front before he rang the bell. Even answered it a few seconds later wearing sweats and looking adorably confused. Isak legitimately thought that he might throw up at the sight of him—that’s how nervous he was—but when Even’s cheeks blushed a flaming crimson, it set something inside of him at ease. At least he wasn’t the only one that felt out of sorts. 

“Hi,” he greeted with a helpless shrug, hoping Even understood without words the inescapable force that had pulled him here. “Can I maybe…come in?” 

Even nodded immediately, stepping out of the way to usher Isak inside. Looking at Even was too overwhelming, so he looked at the apartment instead. It was much nicer than Isak’s, even despite the boxes stacked everywhere, but it was clear Even was spending his day unpacking because there were three open boxes and an assortment of random belongings strewn across the living room floor. It hurt Isak’s soul a bit that he didn’t recognize anything in the place, but then again, Even had left him with most of their flea market findings when he moved and it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford better things now. 

Isak forced himself to turn back to Even who was still standing in the entryway, looking awkward in his own house. “How’s the unpacking going?” Isak tried, searching for any topic of conversation that might relieve a bit of the tension between them, but that one certainly didn’t seem to work because Even just shrugged and shuffled his feet nervously. 

“How did you know I was here?” He sounded so hesitant—so nervous—that Isak started to doubt whether Even wanted to see him at all. 

“Um, well, _you_ , actually. Or at least your credit card.” He slung his backpack off of his shoulder and extracted the photo album from it carefully. He wasn’t sure why, but he’d been treating the thing with so much reverence it was actually a bit sad—like it was the only surviving artifact from a long-lost civilization or something. He looked down at the happy picture on the cover one last time and then passed it over to Even. “I think this is yours. Or at least you’re the one that paid for it.” Even reached out with his left hand to take the album and Isak couldn’t help but notice that he was no longer wearing his wedding ring. Isak wasn’t sure how to feel about that. 

When Even opened the album, his face broke out in a shaky grin. “We look so cute,” he said and Isak couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Or at least you do,” he smirked, glancing up at Isak quickly. “ _I_ apparently couldn’t even be bothered to keep my tie on. I never did find that tie, by the way, and it was my favorite.” 

“I’m sorry?” Isak asked. “Is that somehow my fault?” 

“I mean, my money’s on you being the one who took it off, so yeah.” He flipped to the next page and his smile grew wider. “How much of that night do you remember?” 

Isak hummed thoughtfully, debating how much he wanted to share. “Bits and pieces.” 

Even nodded and then turned the album around so that Isak could see the picture he was staring at. It was right after the officiant had pronounced them married and they were kissing each through their laughter, looking happier than Isak had seen himself look in years—or possibly ever. “Do you remember _this_?” 

Isak swallowed hard, but he knew he couldn’t cheapen that moment no matter how much it hurt to admit the truth. “Yeah, I remember.” 

“Good,” Even smiled. “Me too.” He shut the photo album with a snap and set it down on the table in the entryway. “Do you mind if I keep that? Look through it later?” 

“No,” Isak shrugged. “Like I said, you paid for it.” Even nodded and then began leading Isak through the apartment. 

“Do you want something to drink? I need a little break from my unpacking anyway.” Isak knew that a heavy drink would help him say what he needed to say, but he didn’t want to broach this subject under the influence of anything. 

“No,” Isak said as they reached the kitchen. Even still had his back turned to him and was heading towards the fridge to grab something for himself when Isak opened his mouth and spoke the words he’d been dreading all week. “I think we should talk about getting a divorce.” 

The words sounded ridiculous for so many reasons—not the least of which was that Isak still wasn’t sure if they even _were_ married, although he’d researched the wedding chapel online and it looked pretty official. They were also words he never imagined saying to Even under any circumstances and despite everything, he didn’t actually _want_ a divorce, but when you accidentally marry your ex-boyfriend in a drunken stupor, divorce seems like the most logical option. Even, however, didn’t seem to agree. 

He paused with his hand on the handle of the fridge, just long enough for Isak to notice the hesitation, but then he was moving again. He pulled out a cold beer, popped the top, and took a swig. Then, the smile never leaving his face, he leaned against his kitchen island and smirked over at Isak, who was still standing frozen in the doorway. 

“No,” he said and Isak was so distracted by how fucking good he looked that it took him a second to remember what in the world he had asked. 

“No?” he clarified. “No you don’t want to talk or no you don’t want to—” 

“No, we’re not getting a divorce,” Even said. “At least not until you agree to go on a date with me. If the date sucks, then sure. We’ll talk about it. But spoiler alert? The date’s not going to suck.” 

Isak sputtered for several seconds before finally settling on, “You want to go on a date with me?” 

“Don’t act so surprised, Isak. It’s only been a week. The romance isn’t dead yet.” He knew it was a joke, but the punch line stung hard because it hadn’t only been a week. It had been _years_. Years since Isak had been on a date with Even and he felt every single one like a scar carved into his heart. 

Even seemed to notice his sudden change in demeanor because he dropped the humor and set his beer down before stepping into Isak’s personal space. “Go on a date with me,” he said, reaching out to brush his thumb along Isak’s cheekbone. His breath tickled Isak’s eyelashes and it sent a shiver all the way down his spine. He hated that Even could affect him like that, even after so many years. “Please. Give it one last chance, Isak. Give _me_ one last chance.” 

And how was he supposed to say no to that? 

* 

Even picked him up in a car Isak didn't know he had and then headed into the heart of town. Isak knew immediately where they were going and he was shocked, quite frankly, that Even thought their newfound friendship (or marriage, whatever) was strong enough to handle what he was about to put it through. 

"You are _not_ taking me to the movies," Isak deadpanned. Even just smirked and shrugged, but the answer was obviously yes. 

Here's the thing: Isak _hated_ going to the movies with Even. He loved _watching_ movies with Even, but sitting in a theater surrounded by other people? Nope. No. Not gonna happen. Going to the movies with Even was torture because he always did one of two things. If he felt strongly about the movie (good or bad), he talked. A lot. And not quietly either. If he was bored, he pulled out his phone and played games until it was over. There was no in between. 

Once they had gotten past that shiny, new stage in their relationship when Isak was scared to say anything that might start a fight, he'd told Even straight up: no more movie theaters. Ever. And yet here they were. It was certainly possible he'd forgotten their little arrangement, but the sly grin on his face suggested that he knew exactly what he was doing. 

"There's a movie out I think you might like," he said simply. 

Isak rolled his eyes, but couldn't quite bite back his smart response. "Yeah, Even, I've seen it." Probably a few too many times, if he was being honest. 

Even glanced over at him from the driver's side, a huge smile on his face. "Not with the director's commentary, you haven't." 

The cinema was teeming with people when they got there, so they had to wait in a bit of a line at the ticket counter. "Two for the eight o'clock showing of _Minute by Minute_ for me and my husband, please," Even said when they finally reached the front. He pulled Isak close to his side and although he was being ridiculous, Isak basked in the familiar warmth of his body. 

The girl printed their tickets without comment and then they walked into the building, stocking up on snacks and candy before making their way to Auditorium 12. Isak had already mentally prepared himself to fight for seats, but when he walked in, the large room was empty. Isak stared in shock, but when he turned back to Even, the older boy was beaming. 

"Did you rent out the whole auditorium?" Isak laughed in disbelief. He wondered, not for the first time, just how much money Even had made from his little indie film. 

Even shrugged. "It's meant to be seen on the big screen. Now pick a seat." 

Isak was used to sitting in the very top row when he was with Even to minimize their chances of distracting others, but this time he chose a seat in the middle. The movie started almost immediately. So did the commentary. 

Even took off right away talking about the snotty actors he'd had to work with, the sweltering shooting conditions, and how nervous he’d been on his first day. Isak loved every second of it. The dialogue in the movie was familiar to him, so he tuned it out and listened to Even instead. The movie was a about a young couple who had been in love as teenagers, but were separated by forces outside of their control. It was a story about how they found each other years later and learned to love again. Isak had always watched it with a sort of wistfulness, thinking maybe this was what Even wanted for them—to find each other when they were at their lowest point and stitch themselves back together again. 

"I was manic when I wrote most of this," Even admitted about halfway through the film when the main characters met again for the first time in years. He sounded disappointed and Isak knew him well enough to know that he worried he would never be able to recreate that genius when he was taking his meds like he should. He'd always worried about that. "I just wanted us to work out so badly that it turned into...this." 

Isak looked over at him, but for the first time, Even wasn't looking back. He looked troubled, vulnerable, like maybe he had admitted too much. So Isak started talking instead. 

"The first time I saw this, I cried through the whole thing." Even looked at him in shock and Isak forced himself to maintain eye contact even though he felt blood rushing to his face. "Jonas asked me to go see it with him a week later and I pretended that I didn't want to go, but I actually just didn’t want to cry in front of him. It wasn't until the third time I saw it that I was actually able to follow the plot. It's a good movie, Even—a great movie. I am so ridiculously proud of you." 

It was Even's turn to blush. "California was good to me. I learned so much—so much more than I ever could have here—and it opened doors for me that would have been closed otherwise. I'm glad I went." 

Isak sighed deeply and asked the question that had been nagging at him since he found out Even was in Norway to stay. "Then why did you come back?" 

"Because," Even shrugged. "This is home. _You_ are my home. I don't need the fame or the prestige or the money, I just need to be able to do what I love. I spent seven years counting down the days until I could come back to you. I got tired of counting." 

Isak's breath hitched in his chest because he had been counting too. He thought about telling Even about all of the times he'd saved for a plane ticket, but never had the guts to actually buy it. Or the nights when he lay awake, crying over the relationship that he thought he had ruined. Instead, he offered him the truth he had learned fighting for breath in an airport parking lot. "If you want to go back, I'll go with you. I can't live another day without you in my life, Even. When you're not here, it's like I can't breath. I can't think. I can't function. I would rather die than go through that again." 

Even reached out and lovingly brushed a curl out of Isak's eyes. "Good thing you won't have to." 

* 

They had barely made it through the door to Even's apartment before Even's lips were on him. He led Isak towards what he assumed was the bedroom and broke their kiss to push him back onto the bed. Isak only had a second to catch his breath before Even was climbing on top of him, kissing every bare inch of skin he could find—and it still wasn’t enough. 

They threw off each other’s clothes carelessly and Isak was finally able to understand the passion that had resulted in them finding their clothes in a hotel hallway. He was jealous of himself a little bit for getting to experience that reunion first hand when it was all just a blur to him now. But if the make-up sex was even half as good as the break-up sex, sign him the fuck up. 

Isak thought he would be embarrassed when Even finally pulled his boxers off, but he wasn’t. His body was as much Even’s as it was his and it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it a thousand times before. This wasn’t some drunken hook-up or a one-night stand he’d met at a bar. This was Even, his husband, who knew him better than anyone. He had nothing to be ashamed of. 

In the seven years they’d been apart, Isak had gone long stretches without sex—years, sometimes—but he had never been as desperate as he was in that moment. It was like he was addicted. His body had gotten a taste and now he was starving for it. 

“Fuck, Even,” he breathed when he couldn’t take any more. Every touch felt magnified and he was squirming beneath Even on the bed, searching for some sort of friction that just wasn’t there. His cock was hard and wet against his stomach and he had no clue if Even expected to actually fuck him tonight, but he knew he wasn’t going to last that long. If the sounds Even was making were any indication, he wasn’t going to either. 

“Shit,” Even breathed, tearing his lips away from Isak’s neck to look him in the eyes. “Isak, I love you so fucking much.” 

Isak reached up and buried his fingers in Even’s hair. “I love you too.” Then he pulled him back in for a kiss and they began moving in time once more, grinding their bodies together until the only thing they could feel was each other. It had been so long since they had done this sober and yet they still moved in sync, anticipating the other’s movements, which is why when Even pulled away, Isak didn’t bother whining about it. And sure enough, before the air had even begun to chill his skin, Even had reached between their sweat-damp bodies and took both of them in his hand. They were too large to both fit comfortably, so Isak laced their fingers together and helped him grip them tight. 

“We’ll do it properly later,” Even said, breathless, and then they began thrusting together into the cavity that they had created. Even leaned down close and nipped at the soft skin beneath Isak’s ear (because he knew that drove him crazy) and Isak couldn’t get over how much better this was with someone who knew his body and cared enough to make it good for him. 

Pressure was building in his groin quickly, so he pulled Even away from his neck so that he could stare into his bright blue eyes when he came. He let out a full body shiver as his orgasm crashed over him and then Even kissed him long and hard before breaking apart to take in another breath of air. Isak’s cum now coated both of them, making it easier for Even, but Isak was much too sensitive after just coming to let Even thrust against him, so he swatted Even’s hand away and let the boy collapse onto his back next to Isak as Isak gripped him tight and jerked him hard and fast until he was shooting jizz up to his chin. Isak couldn’t help but smirk. 

Afterwards, the two of them laid face-to-face on their respective pillows, just as they had that first morning. They were both still panting, coming down from their highs, and they were also filthy from a mixture of sweat and come, but neither could be bothered to move. Whatever this was seemed so fragile that Isak was scared to speak, but he knew one of them had to and it might as well be him. 

“So, about that divorce?” He tried to keep his tone light and reached out to cup Even’s cheek so he knew he wasn’t trying to be cruel. 

“No divorce,” Even said simply, nuzzling into his hand. Isak smiled down at him, overwhelmed by his own emotions. He thought he’d known love before, but _this_? This was something else entirely. 

“It’s weird though, isn’t it?” Isak mused. “I mean, am I supposed to introduce you as my husband now? Are we telling people?” 

Even shrugged, still smiling. “A divorce would be a complete waste because if we get divorced, I’m just going to ask you to marry me again in like six months. And then we would have paid the fees for nothing.” 

“You have to pay to get a divorce?” Isak asked incredulously. 

Even rolled his eyes. “I don’t fucking know, Isak. I’ve never gotten divorced before.” He stared at Isak for a long time, his eyes once again shining with happiness, and Isak’s heart felt so full. “Plus,” he added. “If we get divorced and then get re-married, I’m going to have to tell people you’re my _second_ husband, and that just doesn’t sound right. Maybe it’s because I’m a romantic, but I want to be one of those couples that got it right the first time.” 

Isak huffed out a laugh, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. “You’re so ridiculous.” 

“Yeah?” Even chuckled. 

“Yeah,” Isak agreed, leaning in to kiss him once more. “That’s why I married you.” 

*

Exactly six months later at 21:21, Even sat Isak down in front of their ridiculously large television and pressed play on a video he’d been editing for days. Isak naively thought it was going to be something for work, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. 

The video opened with Even sitting on his bed in a room Isak didn’t recognize. Only it wasn’t the Even sitting next to him now. It was a younger Even. An Even with paler skin and smaller shoulders. An Even that looked absolutely miserable. 

“Hey, Isak,” Video Even said, doing his best to muster up a smile. “I’ve now been in California for…” He paused, looking down at his watch like he was counting the hours. “Four days, sixteen hours, eight minutes—and I miss you so goddamn much. I think we made a mistake, baby. I don’t think I can do this. I don’t think I _want_ to do this. Not without you.” Video Even looked like he was fighting back tears and Real Isak definitely was. “I don’t even know why I’m doing this. I just…need to feel close to you, I guess. There’s just something inside of me that knows that the way we left things wasn’t the end and when we find each other again, I want to have something to show for the time we spent apart. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that while I don’t know what the fuck is going to happen tomorrow or next month or next year, what I do know is that I’m going to marry you one day, Isak Valtersen. Remember that.” 

If Isak thought that was going to be the end, he was wrong. The video was about fifteen minutes long and every single clip was the same, just Even talking to the camera. Most of the time he was in that same small bedroom in California, but sometimes he was in his kitchen or his living room. There were even a few clips shot at the beach. Isak watched as time passed and Even’s skin got darker and his hair got lighter and he slowly began to smile again. He listened as Even talked about all of the life events Isak thought he had missed out on: his first day of film school, his senior thesis, his graduation, his first job—and every single clip ended with the same line: “I’m going to marry you one day, Isak Valtersen. Remember that.” By the end, Isak could barely see the screen through his tears and just knowing that the raw footage was out there somewhere, waiting for him to watch—it was too much. 

When the video finally clicked off, Even took Isak’s face in his hands, wiped his tears away, and then kissed him on the forehead. “So what do you say, Isak Valtersen? Will you marry me? Again?” 

Isak laughed through his tears and nodded as Even slid the silver wedding band he thought was gone forever onto his finger. “Seriously?” Isak said when he could finally form words. “This cheap-ass thing? Is it even real? Where the hell did we even buy these?” 

“ _I’m_ the one who bought it,” Even said, taking Isak’s hand in his and gripping it tight. “And it wasn’t cheap. Well, maybe relatively speaking, but I was working at KB at the time, so—” 

“Wait, what?” Isak said, reeling back in confusion. “But you haven’t worked at KB since…” And then it clicked. “Whoa.” 

Even chuckled and pulled him even closer on the couch until Isak was practically sitting in his lap. “I knew the very first day I saw you—before we even met. There was this little voice in the back of my head whispering ‘That’s him. That’s your husband’ and I’ve never once doubted that.” 

Isak wasn’t one to believe in things like fate and destiny, but in that moment he did. It was like Even had been made specifically _for_ him, like their souls called to each other, across miles and years, until they were together again. Even couldn’t write a better love story if he tried. 

“So, what do you say?” Even asked again. “You want to do this? For real this time?” 

Isak didn’t hesitate before leaping across the space between them and pressing a hard kiss to his lips. “Yeah,” he smiled, backing away with a smirk. “I do.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to be on vacation for a couple weeks, but here's a oneshot to tide you over until I get back. Hope you liked it!


End file.
